


Hang Em High

by LemonSupreme



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Happy Charloeween fic fest, MCD ish, No Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, canon compliant through series finale, no comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:25:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8440261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonSupreme/pseuds/LemonSupreme
Summary: The people of Texas reel when they hear the rumors that Miles, Rachel, Charlie and Bass have been executed...nobody reels more than the four "exectued" people themselves.... As the Nano leads our heroes on a series of missions, they must face the truth about who they are and the kind of future that lies before them. Charloe one-shot for the GSC Supernatural themed "Happy Charloeween" Fic Fest (with a Lemon HEA guarantee)





	

**Author's Note:**

> As you know, if you've ever read my stories...I don't usually kill our favorite characters. This particular fic fest gave me a chance to do something new. I know it won't be for everyone. Hopefully a few of you will give it a chance. :)
> 
> From the goodshipcharloe's Happy Charloeween page: "*because of the nature of this particular fic fest (zombies and vampires & ghosts, oh my!) we are kinda/sorta lifting our death rule. All we ask is that you still find a way for a Charloe happy ending - even if it is of a supernatural/eternal variety (i.e. If Charlie is a ghost, Bass is one with her). Please note that normal happy endings with no death are also welcomed. Please be kind and use warnings if they apply."

 

**A/N For the GSC Happy Charloeween fic fest. This story is a bit different than any I've written before, with an equal mix of MCD and Charloe Happily Ever After... Hope you'll give it a chance.**

* * *

"The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." -Mark Twain

* * *

Frank Blanchard drives the wagon through the dark streets of Willoughby and only his harsh whispers of "Stay the fuck down!" can be heard above the sounds of the rickety wheels as they bump along the uneven road. Miles and Rachel lie side by side on the rough boards of the wagon's bed, covered by a tarp that smells suspiciously like cat piss.

"I hate cats," Miles growls.

"What is happening?" Rachel asks as her body slams against his for the hundredth time.

Miles hears the fear in her voice. It is raw and ugly and so unlike Rachel Matheson that the absurdity of the moment almost makes him laugh. Almost. The thing is – she's not alone in her fear. Something is not right. Miles can't remember how he got into this wagon or why Blanchard is driving them around like a chicken with its head cut off. As they hit a particularly rough bump, he feels his teeth rattle and fights an overwhelming urge to vomit. Finally he answers. "Don't know. Nothing good."

They hear it at the same time. A loud cacophony of screams and bloodthirsty cheers. Miles feels a cold sweat pop out on his back and his spine tingles with apprehension. He ignores Blanchard's manic urging to "Keep low, for fuck's sake!" and he lifts his head just enough so that he can look out a narrow opening in the side of the wagon. He keeps to one side of the opening so that Rachel can peek out with him.

Miles has seen a lot of ugliness in his life. Before the blackout it was Afghanistan and the horror of battle. After the blackout it was the death and decay of a crumbling society and then it was the brutality of helping run an empire.

This is worse.

The mob is big and energized. Their torches are flashing eerie shadows across leering faces. A handful of the revelers have donned handmade Halloween masks. They are dancing and yelling and chanting something vague and foreboding. Patriot soldiers are everywhere.

Miles doesn't notice any of the people milling around in the crowd. His eyes are focused on the thing that sits in their midst – big and dark and awful. It is a gallows from which hang four fresh bodies, their limbs still twitching as piss pools at their feet.

Rachel makes a low anguished sound as she takes in the same view that Miles stares at with wide unbelieving eyes.

In flashes of torch light, they stare at the dirty canvas hoods which mask the faces of the four recently deceased. Two of the bodies clearly belong to men. The other two bodies swinging in the chilly autumn wind are softer and female – each with long golden hair peeking out from under their death hoods. All four are wearing jeans and leather jackets. One of the women wears a distinctive chain belt, slung low on narrow hips.

"Charlie?" Miles can't accept this. Won't. His gaze wanders to the man hanging at her side. He sees the quilted leather of the man's jacket and notes the boots with the stupid buckle straps. Bass had loved those goddamned boots. "No." Miles says again, his voice louder this time.

"Yes." Rachel whispers.

"But the other two? Who are they?" His voice trails off as he hears Rachel suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly. He can only see the whites of her eyes under the shadow of the tarp, but he can feel the way her whole body relaxes. No longer quaking with fear, she is suddenly the calm and cold woman he has always known. Strangely this gives him comfort.

She nods out at the macabre scene. "Look at the sign, Miles."

The wagon has drawn even with the gallows and he looks at slanted words that are painted on a chunk of plywood. "Monroe and the Mathesons – Traitors" it reads.

Miles's head is spinning. This is impossible. He wonders if he's having a hallucination. Maybe he ate something that was poisoned or laced with drugs. Maybe he's actually in an infirmary somewhere. He dropped acid once with Bass in high school. That had been trippy, but not as bad as this. Miles runs sweaty palms against the thighs of his jeans.

No. This is all too real to be a hallucination. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Miles. She pauses expectantly, but when he doesn't say anything, she forges on. "That's Bass and Charlie, and next to them? That's us. This appears to be our execution."

* * *

Bass wakes up slowly. His mind feels sluggish and his eyes are dry and itchy. "What the hell?" He knows he's on a train but he can't remember why or how he got here. He takes a moment to look around.

The drafty freight car is littered with moldy straw and old wooden boxes. The side door is open wide and the moon-kissed black of a cold October night flashes by. His eyes are drawn to the only light in the space. Aaron Pittman sits in a corner of the train car. He is huddled in a red plaid blanket and on a hook at his side hangs a dully glowing lantern.

Bass has no idea what's going on, but figures Aaron will have the answers he needs. He yells over the wail of the train's engine and the thundering rhythm of pumping pistons and ungreased wheels. "Staypuft?"

Aaron nods, tiredly. "Good. You're awake. She should come around soon." He nods to a pile of straw at his side – except on closer examination, Bass sees that the straw is actually another blanket covered person and the 'straw' in question is actually long dirty blond curls.

He'd know that hair anywhere. "Charlie? Is she hurt? What the fuck is going on?"

"It's a long story. And don't yell. I can hear you just fine." Aaron sounds tired and he doesn't meet Bass's eyes, choosing to stare at the dirty floor instead. "If you don't mind, I'll fill you both in when she's awake so that I don't have to repeat myself."

"So, she's okay?"

Aaron doesn't bother answering but Bass takes heart in the fact that Aaron knows Charlie will wake up.

* * *

The wagon finally stops and Miles yanks back the reeking tarp. Blanchard has already dismounted, showing surprising agility for a man his age. Miles vaults over the side of the wagon and advances on the older man who is backing away as quickly as he can.

"What in the holy fuck was THAT?" Miles yells. Little specks of spittle collect in the corners of his mouth. His eyes blaze with rage and pain. His fists clench tightly as he stalks closer to Frank.

Blanchard holds up his hands in defense. "Slow down there. I am not the enemy. Not this time."

"Then what are you, Frank? How did we get into your wagon? And who the hell were those people in the gallows? Cause they looked like us but we're not dead."

"Listen, I know this is going to be weird as hell, but you have to trust me."

"I don't have to do anything, Frank. Tell me the fucking truth! Is Charlie dead? Bass?"

Rachel stands off to one side. She watches Miles cooly and then turns to Frank, tilting her head. "It was the Nano, wasn't it? The Nano saved us?"

Blanchard relaxes slightly and nods. "Yeah. You guys were done for – all four of ya. Davis had escaped but some of his fellas tracked you down to a shitty old house on the edge of Austen. They dragged ya'all back to Willoughby to make a public spectacle of your execution."

"Bass and Charlie? Where are they?" Miles rubs at his temples.

"Your buddy has em. The fat fella?"

Miles tiredly cocks an eyebrow. "Really, Frank? _You're_ calling Aaron fat?"

Frank claps his hands. "Yeah, Aaron! That's his name. He took those two and I got you guys."

"So who were the poor sons a bitches swinging from ropes on main street in our clothes?"

Blanchard glances away, as if this part of the story bothers him. "Not sure. Patriots is my guess. The Nano is not a fan of those khaki bastards."

"They didn't look like Patriots. They looked like us."

"Well, the Nano does this thing where it makes itself look like something it's not. Don't know how it does it, but it does."

Rachel nods, as if this all makes perfect sense. "How do you know so much about the Nano, Frank?"

"Well, I used to know nothing, but then earlier today my sister Eliza came to visit me."

Miles is still irritated, and not at all convinced that Frank has a clue what he's talking about. "So?"

"So Eliza died about five years before the blackout. Got trashed on rum and cokes and ran her little Ford Escort headlong into a semi."

"Sorry for your loss." Miles couldn't sound less sincere if he tried.

"Nah. It's allright. It happened a long time ago. Won't lie to you though. When I saw her, I nearly shit myself."

"There's a mental image I didn't need." Miles shakes his head. "Okay, let's assume you're telling us the truth. Why would the Nano pick you to save us?"

"Don't be an asshole. I don't know why I got picked. All I know is that thing wearing my sister like a cheap suit was determined to keep you two safe. Especially her. That thing is right fond of her."

"The Nano is fond of your sister?" Miles asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"No, you piece of shit." Frank points at Rachel. "HER! It loves her in this weird way that I can't explain and it asked me to take special care of her and anyone who she cares about."

"But you said it saved Bass too? She doesn't care about him."

Frank shrugs. "Maybe it was a package deal. Maybe it's because he's special to you and you matter to her? How the fuck should I know? If your dead sister shows up and says drive a wagon to this address and keep these two people safe – well, you just do it. You don't ask a lot of questions."

* * *

Bass has moved to sit next to Aaron. Pitman seems rattled and Bass wants to know why. "What's your problem? You're acting weird."

Aaron shrugs. "This is all very weird."

"How did we get on this train?" Bass talks to Aaron but his gaze is drawn to Charlie. "What happened to her head?"

"She fought the guys who arrested you. She got banged up. She'll be okay, I think."

"What was I arrested for?" Bass asks.

"Wasn't just you. Miles, Rachel and Charlie were all arrested too. The Patriots wanted to make an example of you. Called you traitor scum."

"Traitor scum? That's a new one." Bass frowns. Aaron still won't look at him and it's getting weird. "What are you not telling me? Is Miles okay? And how did we get away?"

Aaron nods. "Miles is fine. Rachel too, not that you care."

Bass is exasperated. "Listen, I'm not thrilled about this situation either, but you don't have to take out your frustration on me. I don't remember getting arrested, or getting on this train... Last thing I remember was – " Bass recalls his last memory – warm curvy flesh and soft kisses and a whole lot of heavy breathing…. He shakes his head. No way is he explaining any of _that_ to Staypuft. "Anyway, I wasn't on a train."

"I put you on here. Charlie too. You were both out cold."

" _You_ lifted _me_ onto a train car?" Bass's disbelief is unmistakable. "The door is four feet off the ground. Did you have a pulley?"

"Don't be a dick."

Bass tilts his head, suddenly very curious. "Who helped you lift us into the train?"

Aaron doesn't answer for a long time. He stares at the ground. Bass nudges him with a boot and is surprised when Aaron jumps up and walks a few steps away. He watches Bass warily. "You won't believe me."

"Try me."

Aaron shrugs. "Fine. It was Danny, okay? Danny Matheson helped me boost both of you into this train car."

Bass leans back against the cold metal wall of the freight car. "So, that's why you're all freaked out."

"Getting help from a dead kid is just one in a really long list of reasons that I am all freaked out."

* * *

Several hours later, Frank leads Miles and Rachel into the long abandoned house where he's been staying.

"Any chance you have any booze in this hell hole, Frank?" Miles settles onto a dusty kitchen chair that has probably outlived its usefulness pre-blackout.

"Yeah. Look in the dish washer."

Miles stands and goes over to the rusted door with a tiny Whirlpool insignia and pulls it open. The inside is surprisingly clean and the bottom rack is lined with glass bottles. Each is filled with a golden amber liquid. "Perfect," Miles says with a grin as he pulls one free.

Rachel dusts off a second chair and sits. Miles joins her at the table. Frank leans against the stove, watching them both.

"What?" Miles asks.

Frank looks distracted and shakes his head. "Nothing. You guys need anything else?"

Miles swallows a drink and frowns into the bottle. "Yeah. How bout some answers? When are we going to see Bass and Charlie? Why is any of this happening and why don't we remember how it all started?"

Blanchard opens his mouth to answer but Rachel raises a hand to stop him. "No. Those aren't the right questions. Right now there is only one question that matters."

Miles doesn't bother hiding his irritation. "Fine. What's your important question?"

"The Nano isn't known for its generosity, Miles. If it saved us, it probably wants something in return." She turns to face Frank. "So, what is it? What does the Nano want from us?"

* * *

Charlie wakes up with a start. She had been dreaming of Danny. He was alive and well and laughing at her for forgetting his birthday. "Did I forget his birthday?" She can't remember.

"Who's birthday?"

Charlie sits up and sees Bass watching her. His face is creased with worry. As the fog of her dream fades, she looks around. She and Bass are not alone. Aaron is here too, and _here_ is a train car of some sort.

She looks at Bass again and shakes her head. "It was just a dream. What happened? Why are we here?"

"Not sure. He wouldn't tell me till you woke up. You feel okay?"

"I guess so. Head hurts, but I'm fine. You?"

"I'm fine now." Bass leans in closer and lowers his voice. "Was worried about you."

Charlie glances over at Aaron before answering, "I'm okay, Bass. Promise."

He reaches over and strokes a rough fingertip along the top of her hand. His eyes say things he doesn't feel he can voice in front of Pittman. She nods.

Aaron squats nearby and glances from one to the other suspiciously. "I don't know what that is all about and I don't want to know."

"Don't be an asshole, Staypuft. We're friends and we work together."

"Yeah, sure. I really don't care." Aaron runs a hand through his tousled hair.

Charlie looks at Aaron and truly sees him for the first time since she'd woken up. "What happened to your glasses?"

Aaron reaches up and touches the bridge of his black rimmed glasses where a fresh wrapping of twine is holding them together. "They, uh – they broke."

Bass frowns. "I don't care about your damned glasses. Are you going to tell us what's going on? You said you'd talk when Charlie wakes up." He motions toward Charlie. "Well, she's awake. Start talking."

* * *

"Missions?" Miles sets his empty bottle down on the table. "Your dead sister told you we need to pay the Nano back for saving us by going on missions?"

Frank shrugs. "Pretty much, yeah."

Rachel leans forward. "What kind of missions?"

"It's all anti-Patriot stuff. The Nano hates those US guys as much as it loves you." He pats his pockets. "Uh, just a second. I wrote it down." Frank finally retrieves a small paper from his pocket and squints at it for a moment.

"Not getting any younger, Frank."

Frank flips Miles the bird without lifting his gaze from the paper. "Here it is. First one sounds pretty easy. Go up to Austen and find a young woman named Melanie Landon. She's living with a Patriot General – a guy named Peterson."

"And we're supposed to kill him? Is that it?" Miles finally feels like he's getting his bearings. "We can do that. Just tell us what he looks like and we'll –"

Frank interrupts. "Not supposed to kill Melanie. Just need to convince her that this guy Peterson is bad news."

Rachel shakes her head. "That can't be right."

Miles stands and begins to pace. "Relationship advice? That's what it wants from us? I'm the fucking Butcher of Baltimore, not Dr. Phil."

"Would you just shut up for one fucking minute?" Blanchard's eyes narrow. "I'm not done."

"Fine. What else?"

"You are supposed to talk to Melanie and get her away from Peterson. After she's out of the picture, you can kill him. For whatever reason, you are supposed to spare the broad."

Rachel catches Miles's gaze and shrugs. "It's doable."

Miles sighs. "Fine, let's get on the road." He starts for the door and pauses when Frank pulls on a jacket. "Where do you think you're going, Blanchard?"

"The Nano wants me to stick with you – kind of a guide, I guess. Don't worry. I'll stay out of your way."

"You aren't serious."

Rachel puts a hand on Miles's arm. "It's okay. They wouldn't ask him along without a good reason."

Miles doesn't say anything more, but based on the tight set to his shoulders, he's less than thrilled.

* * *

"You want us to do what?" Bass is pretty sure he heard Aaron wrong.

"Find Ed Truman and –"

"And kill him?"

"No."

"What do you mean, no? Why wouldn't we kill him? He's a rat bastard psychopath."

"That's not the mission."

"Mission?" Bass shakes his head, his tone is bitter. "Who the fuck are you, Jim Phelps?"

Aaron takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. "No, Monroe. Of course not."

Charlie had listened without speaking, but now she leans in close. "So, what are we supposed to do with Truman?"

The train begins to shudder and the loud squeal of brakes fills the car. Aaron nods to the gaping blackness beyond the open door. "We need to get going. I'll explain on the way."

"On the way?" Charlie asks. "You're coming with?"

"Yeah. I'm coming with."

* * *

Weeks pass and the true motivation behind the Nano's odd requests remain shrouded in mystery, but the two teams tackle each mission they are assigned.

Miles and Rachel convince Melanie to move out – well, Rachel does the convincing. Miles focuses on ridding the world of Peterson, who does turn out to be a vile guy, even by Patriot standards.

Bass and Charlie find Truman and since Aaron said so – they don't kill him. They have to spend the first hour just convincing him that they aren't dead and that the people he saw executed were imposters. Once that is settled, they help face his guilt over Marion's death. It hadn't hit him right away, but as time passed, he'd started to really miss her and regret all he'd done.

Truman's voice is shaky as he tells them his story. "For a while, she was visiting me. It was like she was here except she wanted me to go west."

"So, what did you do?"

"Got as far as the Grand Canyon and realized I was a crazy person to follow the whims of a woman I'd killed. I turned around and came home."

Charlie can tell that this grief and guilt are eating him up, but she can't help herself. "Why did you do it? Why kill her? She was a nice lady. My Grandpa was devastated. He died not long after – just couldn't deal with the grief."

At first Ed is defensive and tries to shift the blame. "It was Davis's fault. I didn't want to kill her."

Bass is tired of all the talking. "Yeah, but ya did."

"But it wasn't – I didn't – ah hell. How could I kill her? She loved me."

Bass shrugs, takes a drink from a bottle of whiskey he had tucked in his pocket. "You're a piece of shit, and Marion isn't the only evidence of that. A certain trial and execution come to mind. I should skin you alive for your involvement in that - "

Aaron clears his throat. "Play nice, General."

"Ah, fuck." Bass puts the lid back on the bottle. "Ed, you screwed up. We all screwed up. Deal with it and move on."

It takes a lot of talking but eventually Truman seems to be willing to face his demons head on. Aaron tells him to go back to Austen and that he'll get new orders soon. Still consumed by guilt over Marion but very much alive, Truman packs up and heads toward Austen, Texas.

"I really don't like the not-killing part of this," Bass says as he watches Truman walk away.

Charlie can tell that Bass's trigger finger is feeling awfully itchy so she nudges him with her boot. "Come on. Aaron says we have to go East for the next one."

"Of course we do." Bass frowns as Truman fades into the mist.

* * *

Miles and Rachel are sent to southern Missouri where they find Rachel's old friend Grace Beaumont. She has holed herself up in an old courthouse and says she's ready to kill herself.

"What are we supposed to do to help Grace?" Miles asks.

"Talk her out of killing herself." Frank scowls. Clearly he thinks this is obvious.

Miles is furious. "Seriously? We traveled hundreds of miles to talk someone off a ledge? Why didn't the Nano just take over the brain of some hapless townie and call it a day?"

"Just shut up and do your job." Blanchard's face is drawn. He's just about had it with Miles Matheson.

"My job?" Miles takes a menacing step toward Frank. "Being the Nano's little bitch is not my job."

Frank raises his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Jesus. Can we just go do the thing?" He sighs. "This thing that isn't your job?"

"Aw, fuck." Miles growls before walking over to the front of the building and looking up at an open window from which the dull glow of candle light can be seen. "Hey Grace, we need to talk."

Xxx

Charlie sidles up next to a cracked Formica counter in a shitty little dive bar in Panama City, Florida. "Looking for a guy," she says to the bartender's back.

He doesn't bother turning. "What's his name?"

Charlie glances down at the paper where Aaron had scrawled the details. "Uh, it's Jamieson. Adam Jamieson."

"Don't know him. Go away."

"I just have a message for him. That's all. Come on, man. Can you help me?"

Slowly the bartender turns. His hair is shaggy and unclean. His skin is tan and his beard is long and unruly. He scowls at her but he is struggling to focus. It looks like he might be his own best customer.

Charlie tilts her head slightly, struck by a feeling of familiarity. When the memory clicks into place, her eyes go wide. "You?"

Bass moves in behind Charlie, alerted by the tone in her voice. He'd been standing near the front door, watching the people milling about in the street. With his hand protectively perched on Charlie's shoulder; Bass squints at the bartender.

The bartender squints back, his gaze moving from Charlie to Bass and back again. "I know you guys." He points at Bass. "You look like fucking hell, but I know you."

"Don't look so hot yourself, these days. They don't have soap in Florida?"

"Don't be an ass. Oh wait. You don't know any better. Last time we met, you hit me with a gun. Bout killed me."

Bass nods slowly, remembering. "You're that asshole bounty hunter. You still work for the Patriots?"

Adam's eyes blaze with anger. "No. Those bastards took everything from me. You with them now?"

Bass scowls. "Hell, no. They tried to kill us. Tried to kill me twice, actually."

"They should have tried harder."

Charlie steps in. "Stop it you two. Listen, Adam. We're not here to mess with you."

The bartender shrugs and reaches for a jar of brown liquor. He takes a sip. "Fine. Why are you here?"

Charlie can't believe the difference in this man and she pauses as she remembers what he'd been like just a couple years ago. Adam the bartender is a drunken shadow of Adam the bounty hunter. He looks haunted and angry. Frown lines are etched into his forehead. She stirs when Bass squeezes her shoulder and glances at Aaron's paper once more. "It's a message from – uh, from a friend."

"Okay." Adam looks skeptical.

"You need to go to Austen and –"

"I'm not going back to Texas."

Charlie frowns and forges on, "Go to Austen and find a woman named Melanie Landon. She is –"

Adam finishes his drink and slams it against the bar. "I fucking know who she is."

Bass frowns at Charlie and they share a look before turning to Adam. "You know her?"

"We were together for a while. Left me for a piece of shit Patriot named Peterson." Adam pours another drink.

Charlie takes the glass from his hands and he tries to grab it back, but fails. He does manage to scratch Charlie's arm in the process and Bass surges forward. "Watch it, asshole."

Adam watches Bass carefully. "What are you, her guard dog?"

Bass nods. "Yeah. Yeah I am."

Adam laughs without humor. "Should have known you two were together back then. I fell for all that 'he killed my family' bullshit. You two were together all along."

"No, we – " Bass tries to interrupt but Charlie stops him.

"Shut it, both of you." Charlie pushes past Bass and faces Adam. "You need to go to Austen and you need to do it soon."

Something in her tone makes Adam pay attention. "Melanie won't want me there."

"I think you're wrong. I don't know why she needs you, but she does."

They turn to leave, but before they open the door, Bass looks back. "Maybe clean up a little first."

* * *

Heather Matthews opens the door when she hears the knock. As soon as she sees the bedraggled visitors on her front porch, she tries to shove the door shut.

Miles shoves a boot into the frame before the door can close. "Not so fast."

"You can't be here. You're dead." Heather's eyes are wide and her face is drained of color.

"Do we look dead?" Miles rolls his eyes.

"Uh, I don't know. You don't look good."

"Didn't your folks teach you any manners?"

"Yeah, but not for you." Heather glares at him. "You killed my brother."

After a few moments, Miles glances away. "I didn't want that to happen and there's nothing I can do to fix it now. We're here and we need to talk to your Dad. Can you help us? Where is he?"

Heather's shoulders sag and she seems to give in. "Dad is just about as dead as I thought you were." She looks from Miles to Rachel and then behind them at Blanchard. She sighs. "Come with me."

They follow Heather through a ramshackle house and into the unkempt back yard. They follow a well-worn path through the overgrowth of saplings and tall weeds until they come upon a rusted out Chevy Camaro with no wheels or doors. Sitting in the driver's seat with one leg still outside on the ground, is Joe Mathews.

Miles approaches slowly. Joe stares straight ahead, ignoring his visitor. He's drinking from a dirty coffee cup of hooch. Miles kneels down at Joe's side. "Hey Joe."

"You the Grim Reaper or some shit?"

"Huh?"

He takes another drink before speaking. "Well, I watched em hang ya, so I know you're dead. Since you're here now, I figure I'm toast too."

"Wasn't me. I know it looked like me but I'm not dead, Joe. Neither are you."

"Huh?"

"How much have you drank, buddy? I think you're wasted."

Heather walks up with a bucket of water from the well. She promptly throws it in her dad's face and walks away without saying a word.

Joe sputters and coughs but when he finally looks up and Miles, his eyes are focused. "I guess I've been drinking for a bit. What'cha want?"

"You need to sober the fuck up. Seems like the Rebel forces need some help…" Miles looks Joe up and down and sighs. "from you of all damned people."

"Nah. Nobody needs me anymore. Been trying to drink myself to death. Kind of pissed it hasn't worked yet."

"Why are you so mopey?" Blanchard has stepped forward. His eyebrow is cocked curiously.

"Patriots took everything I had. Not that I had much, but after you guys… well, after the Patriots thought they'd killed ya, they sort of went crazy. If anyone was suspected of siding with you and Monroe at any time, we got clobbered. They beat the shit out of me. Heather hid or she'd have been hurt bad. They took our food and the few coins we had. I got nothing left."

"So the Patriots took your stuff and beat you up. Why didn't you fight back? Why sit back here and drown in booze?"

"Fight them? Just me? Are you kidding right now?"

Blanchard steps between Joe and Miles. "Doesn't matter. All that matters is getting your sorry ass sobered up so that you can do the shit you got to do."

Joe lets Blanchard help him up. "Huh? What shit do I got to do?"

* * *

Bass and Charlie are perched on a roof top. The air is cool and crisp and the sound of rustling leaves whispers softly on the breeze. They watch a small camp site which is about forty feet from the building they are on top of. A small camp fire and two tents are all they can see at first.

When a figure steps out of the first tent, Bass sucks in a ragged breath. "Connor."

Charlie puts her hand on his shoulder. "Wait. Aaron said Connor won't be alone." Feeling the tension in his body, she slowly rubs comforting circles into his back. "Let's wait just a little longer."

He nods, but his gaze is glued to his son. "Thought I'd never see him again."

She scoots closer. "I know."

"He looks good." The relief is evident in Bass's tone. "He looks good, right?"

Charlie chuckles. "This feels like a trap. Not going to answer."

Bass glances at her and then smiles. "Forgot about all that, to be honest. Just seeing him when I was so sure he'd be dead…"

"I get it. And yeah, he looks good, I guess."

Bass's smile morphs into a grin. "Just not as good as I do, right?"

Charlie leans up and presses her lips softly against his. "Yeah. Not even close."

They wait another twenty minutes before they see Tom Neville emerge from the second tent. He walks up to Connor and they talk for a few minutes. Connor looks agitated. Neville leans in close to the younger man and pokes him in the chest with a bony finger. Connor shakes his head, his mouth set in a grim line.

Bass reaches for his gun, but Charlie grasps his fingers and holds them tight. "Not the plan," she reminds him.

"Plan sucks," he mutters.

They watch as Neville disappears into the forest and Connor sits down on a tree stump, his shoulders slump and he puts his heads in his hands.

"Now?" Bass asks.

"Now," Charlie agrees.

They shimmy down the side of the building and make their way toward Connor and Neville's camp. Charlie pulls a gun from her waist band and points it at Connor as they approach.

Bass scowls at the gun. "Is that necessary?"

"You said he shot at you last time."

"Well, he wasn't the one shooting, but –"

"Close enough. You talk. I'll aim. If he moves funny, I'm killing him."

"Charlie."

"Bass." She cocks an eyebrow, daring him to argue farther. He doesn't

As they reach the campsite, Bass clears his throat. Connor still hasn't looked up, seemingly lost in thought. He glances up and his expression goes through a series of emotions. Surprise. Joy. Worry. Fear.

He stumbles to his feet and steps back with his hands up. "Who the fuck are you?"

Bass stops short. "Seriously? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, you can't be you. I mean, you look like you but you're dead."

Charlie smirks, "Forgot how smart he was, Bass."

Bass doesn't look her way but hisses, "Shut up."

Connor barges on, "Neville showed me the newspaper. I saw you hanging. I mean, I saw my dad hanging and you too." He nods at Charlie. "And Miles and Rachel. All of you were dead, so you can't be you."

Charlie steps forward with her gun still trained on him. "Wasn't us."

"So who was it?"

"Don't really know. Don't really care. Aaron said it was maybe a trick or the Nano made somebody look like us."

Connor's expression darkens. "Nano? Now you sound like Neville. He's nuts. Wants me to go to fucking Iowa or – no." He thinks for a minute. "Idaho? Something like that."

Bass steps between Charlie's gun and Connor. He ignores her growl of protest. "What do you want, Connor?"

He looks into his dad's eyes. He pauses, watching his dad carefully. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I know that I don't want to go to Idaho with Tom Neville." Something in Connor's tone tells Bass and Charlie that he regrets a lot of the things he's done.

"Anything else?" Bass's eyes are wet.

Connor bites his lip. "If you're really you – "

"I'm really me."

"Uh, okay." Connor runs shaky fingers through unkempt curls. "Well, maybe I want a second chance with you, I guess. I was a shit. Didn't realize it till you were dead." He shakes his head. "Till I thought you were dead. I'm really sorry. Maybe I can do something to make up for all of it."

Charlie holsters her gun. "This is your lucky day, Junior. We know just the thing."

* * *

A week later, Blanchard and Aaron finally bring their two teams together. Rachel hugs Charlie. Charlie hugs Miles. Miles hugs Bass. Rachel and Bass nod to each other coldly. Aaron and Frank watch the awkward little reunion without saying anything at all.

After comparing notes on all of the 'missions' they'd been on, and the adventures they'd experienced, the four tired travelers sit down around a camp fire with a few bottles of whiskey.

"So, the Nano is trying to overthrow the Patriots, right?" Miles takes a swig from his bottle and passes it to Charlie.

Bass nods. "I think so. Connor was told to meet up with that bounty hunter."

"Adam," Charlie offers.

Bass nods. "Yeah, Adam. He is supposed to be meeting up with a chick named Melanie."

"We met her." Miles says. Killed her Patriot boyfriend and sent her to Austen."

"Austen must be where it's all going down," Miles says with a frown.

Rachel leans forward. "You said you saw Truman and Neville. Are they alive?"

"Truman is," Charlie says. "Although it wasn't what we had in mind."

"And Neville?" Miles asks.

"Neville is no longer with us." Bass grins before taking a drink. "I really enjoyed that one. I think the Nano let me kill him since it wouldn't let me touch Truman."

"Is Truman going to Austen too?" Rachel asks.

"Yep."

"Joe Mathews and his daughter are also going to Austen. Same with Grace Beaumont." Miles frowns and then looks over where Aaron and Frank are watching them warily. "So, when do we get sent to Austen? They can't have all this action there without us."

"Well, actually they can." Aaron shrugs. "Your job was to get the dream team together. You did that."

"Wait." Bass stands up and walks toward Pittman. "In what world is Ed Truman part of a Patriot-killing dream team and I'm not?"

Miles stands and walks up behind Bass. "What he said."

Frank Blanchard glances at Aaron. They seem to communicate without speaking for a minute. Frank faces the others. "This one. This world is the one where you can't be part of the dream team anymore."

"But why?" Miles asks, confused.

Rachel steps forward. "Because we're not really part of anything anymore." She looks at Frank and Aaron. "That's what you mean, right? We can't be part of the dream team because we're –"

Aaron nods slowly, his expression heavy with sadness.

"Because we're what?" Miles is losing his patience.

"Dead." Bass pales. "Ah, fuck. That really was us, wasn't it? Hanging in Willoughby?"

Blanchard nods. "Yep."

"No fucking way!" Miles lurches forward but Bass yanks him back. "We're not dead. I'm standing here and I'm not dead."

Charlie speaks for the first time since the conversation had started. "That's why we can't remember? Because it was too awful or something. The Nano doesn't want us to remember the way it felt to die."

"Something like that." Aaron says.

"How is this possible? How were we able to talk to all those people? How are we talking to you?" Charlie quizzes Aaron.

"The Nano did something. I think it thought it was helping. Maybe it was."

"Helping how? Why would the Nano help us?" Bass asks.

Rachel is the first to understand. "You said once that the Nano loved me. When you were telling us about visiting with your dead sister, you said the Nano would do anything for me."

Frank Blanchard nods. "Yeah, it loves you. I think it considers you its mother or something."

"How does that have anything to do with us?" Miles asks. "It might think Rachel is its mama, but I'm sure as fuck not related to the Nano."

"No, but in Rachel's final moments, she asked the Nano for help. She asked it to help the people she loved and the ones who were trying to help her."

Bass laughs without humor. "There goes your theory. She sure as hell doesn't love me."

Rachel nods. "True, but I love Charlie and I know how she feels about you. Same for Miles. You are important to them, so you were included."

Bass and Charlie both go still. Miles looks perplexed. "What is she talking about?"

Charlie takes a step closer to Bass and he reaches for her hand. Miles's face reddens as realization dawns. "No way."

"Way," Aaron drawls from the sidelines, cracking a small smile.

"Let's not get lost in the weeds here, kids," Blanchard says. "You guys were all saved because Rachel asked. The Nano couldn't save your lives." He shrugs. "Maybe wouldn't? I don't know. All I know is that you are dead, but it's a special kind of dead."

"What does that mean?" Rachel wants to know.

"The Nano made an exception for the people it helped when you asked. You are dead, but not like anyone who ever died before you. It's almost like a limbo state, I guess. Some folks can see you. I think it's mostly only if you speak to them. I think if you don't say anything, nobody will pay you any attention."

"So, what happens now?" Charlie asks. "We're dead, sort of. Is this our afterlife? We just exist and build dream teams to beat the Patriots…. Is that it?"

Aaron sighs. "We aren't sure. When Danny told me –"

"Danny?" Rachel and Charlie both erupt at the same time, their eyes wide with hope.

"No." Aaron shakes his head. "Not really Danny. The Nano can speak directly to people's subconscious when it wants to or it can create a body to use which we recognize. Frank was approached by the Nano disguised as his long dead sister. For me, it was Danny. Except, you know… it wasn't."

Rachel sags onto a rickety chair and stares into the fire. "You said the Nano loved me. Bringing me back to an eternity here in Blackout World doesn't feel like much of a reward."

"You didn't let me finish. When Nano-Danny came to me –"

"Maybe you should call him Danno?" Bass offers. "Might make it easier to keep track."

Aaron stares blankly at Bass for a moment and then nods. "Fine. Whatever. When Danno came to me, he said you all have a choice. When your missions are done, you can each choose to stay here in this existence or you could move on to the place you would have gone to if the Nano hadn't interfered."

Miles glares at Aaron. "And where is that, exactly?"

"No clue. Not sure Dannno knew either. I think the Nano is very much Earth-bound. There are limits to what it knows and can do."

"Can we at least fight against the Patriots?" Miles asks.

"That isn't something you are being asked to do. You have passed the torch to a new generation of fighters. The new group will take up where you left off."

"Where we left off was hanging from a fucking rope," Miles growls.

"Well, maybe the new group will pick up where you left off before you got arrested? Blanchard offers helpfully.

* * *

Later that night Bass and Miles are still sitting around the campfire. They are both still struggling to accept the truth.

"Are you hungry?" Miles asks absently.

"No."

"Me either. Not sure I've eaten anything in weeks. I drink all the damn time, but have no appetite. How did I not notice that was happening?"

Bass agrees. "Same with taking a piss. Can't remember the last time I had to go."

"I wonder if we can eat but just don't have to?"

"Maybe. I guess we could find something and see if we can eat it."

Miles frowns. "Something else I haven't done in a while…"

"What?"

"Get laid. Wonder if that all still works in this new limbo state."

Bass takes a drink, his gaze averted. "Yeah, that all works fine."

Miles narrows his eyes. "You're one lucky son of a bitch. You know that, right? If you weren't already dead, I'd kill ya."

Bass smiles. "Yeah, I know. Don't care though. Charlie's worth it." His smile fades. "You know. The real reason I'm lucky doesn't have anything to do with you. Wonder what Rachel meant when she said she knew about me and Charlie? We'd tried to keep things real quiet."

"Not quiet enough." Rachel walks up and sits next to Miles. "I saw you guys making out behind the livery a couple days before… well before everything happened."

Miles puts his hand on her knee. "Hey Rach, you want to go have some hot zombie sex? Bass says being dead won't stop us from –"

Rachel purses her lips. "Maybe later."

He shrugs. "Later works for me."

Xxx

Charlie walks behind the safe house and through a copse of trees. She finds the two men easily enough. Aaron is leaning against a rusted out pickup truck. Frank Blanchard stands just a few feet away. They see Charlie but don't say anything. Both watch her silently as she approaches.

She cocks her head to one side. "So, tell me how it happened."

Aaron closes his eyes. "It's a long story."

"Turns out I have a long time to hear it."

He nods. "Yeah. I guess you do. Well, it was like this. That gunfight you guys got into with those Patriot generals? You remember that?"

Charlie wrinkles her brow. "Yeah, I think so. It's fuzzy. Didn't go well?"

"No. It went the opposite of well. You wounded a couple of their guys but they cornered you just as you ran out of ammo. They arrested Miles and Monroe first. Not sure they would have messed with you and your mom, but you tried to stop them from taking Monroe. That just pissed them off. You got pistol whipped and that's when Rachel came charging in."

"I can remember bits and pieces but it feels like a dream."

"A bad one," Blanchard chimes in.

"Anyway, you were arrested, but as you were getting carted off, you saw some kid you knew and asked him to find me. I came into town as quickly as I could. Ran into Blanchard on the way. I told him what was going on, and he wanted to help."

Blanchard takes up the tale. "You guys were good to me even when I didn't deserve it, so I wanted to chip in. Besides, the Patriots have gotten a hell of a lot worse than they ever were under Davis. I figured if I could help bring some order, it was worth a try."

Aaron continues. "They worked fast. By the time we got to Willoughby, the gallows were up. We saw them walking you up there. It was – " Aaron takes a shaky breath. "It was bad. Awful. It was Danny and Cynthia and Maggie and your Dad all dying at once. I thought my heart would explode. I yelled and ran toward you guys."

"I was right on his tail."

"We got to the base of the platform just as they were tightening the ropes. Your mom was the last to get a hood and my eyes met hers and it was like we had this conversation in our heads. I wanted to help. She didn't want me to get hurt. She was resigned, I guess. But then, she looked over at you."

Charlie can't help but feel a lump rising in her throat. "And?"

"And it was like she changed her mind and couldn't give up so easily. She looked at me again and I thought she wanted me to run up to her so I tried to do that."

"What happened then?"

"They, uh. They didn't let us go any closer." Aaron stares at his feet. "I'm so sorry, Charlie. I wanted to save you guys, not – "

Charlie feels hot tears coursing down her cheeks. "You wanted to save us, but you couldn't."

"Yeah. I couldn't." He nods at Blanchard. "We couldn't."

Charlie kicks absently at the dirt, staring at her boots. "So did you guys decide?"

"Decide what?" Aaron asks.

"If you're going to – how did you say it – stay in this existence or join the one you should have had?"

Aaron and Frank exchange a look. "What do you mean?" Frank asks.

Charlie shrugs. "You're dead like we are, right? You said they didn't let you get closer to us. You didn't say you got away."

The men stare at her for a long time. Finally Blanchard nods. "Yeah, we're like you are. How'd you figure it out?"

"I'm not even sure. Just did. How did it happen?"

Aaron slowly takes his glasses off, careful of the bridge which is held together with twine. "Not sure why I keep wearing these. I don't seem to actually need them anymore." He points at the skin between his eyes. "Shot me right here, point blank range."

Blanchard is solemn. "Slashed my throat. Bastards laughed while I bled out in the street."

"Was this before or after…"

"It was close to the same time. Your mom saw those Patriot assholes rush us right before they put the hood over her head. I think it was in that moment when we were all still alive but really close to being dead – that's when she called out to the Nano to help us."

"And then what?"

Aaron shrugs. "The last thing I remember is hearing the sound of the trap doors being pulled. I woke up on a train platform with you and Monroe. You guys were still out cold. Frank woke up in the Willoughby livery. Your mom and Miles were in the back of a wagon, also asleep. We both got our orders and well, you know the rest."

"Yeah," Charlie says. "I guess I do. Thanks for filling in the blanks."

"You're welcome, Charlie. Sorry we couldn't do more."

"It's okay." She turns and starts to walk away but stops and turns again. "You didn't answer my question. Are you staying or going?"

Aaron smiles. "I figure I'll do whatever you guys do, Charlie. I've been following one Matheson or the other for too many years to stop now.

Charlie beams. "I like that answer."

"Yeah. So do I."

Xxx

Later that night, Charlie lies curled in Bass's arms. "Is it weird that I don't feel different? I mean, we're dead. Shouldn't we feel….something."

Bass moves slightly so that Charlie can feel his growing erection. "Feel that?" He nips at her ear lobe.

Charlie laughs and pushes him away. "You know what I mean. It's weird."

"I guess."

"You don't seem bothered or worried?"

"Why would I be worried? Charlie, for the first time in years – decades maybe – I feel free."

"Free?"

"There is no unknown. There is no great punishment coming after death. There is no fear for my loved ones –"

"What do you mean fear for your loved ones?" Charlie props herself up on one elbow and watches him curiously.

"I lost my family when I was young. Then I lost my wife and baby. I lost Miles for a while. For years, I've been petrified of giving my heart to anyone new. The fear of loss was so great."

"And now?"

"Now Miles and me - we're finally getting back to the way we were a long time ago. It may take a while but that friendship isn't going anywhere. He's still my brother."

"I'm glad you still have him."

Bass pulls her tight; his grip digs into her flesh. "And you. I have you."

"Yeah, you do. For always and forever."

Bass frowns. "The only thing I don't have is Connor, but he's proving himself to be so much more than I ever thought he'd be. He's gonna be a hero. I'm proud of my boy."

"Then you're welcome." Charlie snuggles back into Bass's side.

"For what exactly?"

"I may have asked my Mom for a favor."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Asked her to ask the Nano for one more thing – asked her to pray that when it's Connor's time, he can get the same deal as us."

"You did that for me?"

"Of course. Don't you know by now that I'd do anything for you, Bass?"

"Yeah, maybe I did know that." A contented smile spreads across Bass's face as he runs a hand along Charlie's shoulder. "Never thought happily ever after would begin after I was dead. Did you?"

"I expected the dead part," Charlie says. "Saw that one coming for years. Never expected any kind of happy ending though. I'm not even sure how this works. What do we do with our happy ending? Where do we go now? Do you want to stay in Texas?"

Bass shakes his head. "Not really. Miles and your mom mentioned Canada. What do you think?"

Charlie moves up and straddles Bass in one smooth move. She leans down and kisses him softly; her hair hangs like a curtain around his head. "I love the idea of staying close to them and Canada sounds fine, but we can get our own place, right?"

"Hell, yeah." Bass pulls her down to his chest and wraps his arms around her back. "No way are we sharing a house with those two idiots."

"Make that four idiots. Aaron and Frank will probably tag along. That okay with you?"

"Yeah, that's more than okay with me. As long as I'm with you, I don't give a shit about anything else."

There lips meet in another kiss. It is soft and full of promise.

* * *

_Rachel Matheson sees it all in slow motion, even as the noose tightens around her throat. She feels every breath like fire in her chest. Fear and anxiety war within her, muddling her thoughts. She sees Aaron running toward the platform. She sees Blanchard on his heels. She sees the soldiers closing in on the two running men and she knows that whatever happens next won't be good._

_Thoughts ricochet through her mind with no rhyme or reason. She thinks about her parents and Danny. She thinks about Ben and Charlie. Rachel glances over, feeling the rough of the rope scrape against her neck. Charlie is standing tall, brave to the very end. Her shoulders are straight. Her hair hangs long and loose from underneath the hood._

_It is this moment – this split second – where Rachel makes a decision. She remembers explaining the Nano to someone once. "It is everywhere. It is in all of us. It is in every breath we take. It is impossible to escape." These words from long ago echo in her head and she knows they are true._

_As the dark hood settles over her face, Rachel Matheson knows her time is almost up. She doesn't waste precious moments with flowery language, not that flowers were ever her strong suit. No, when Rachel Matheson prays to the tiny robots she helped create, she keeps it simple._

" _Please save us."_

_The boards beneath her feet give way to air before she can even guess if her plea might be answered. But even as the darkness of death grips her body, the Nano is already at work saving her soul._

_Turns out all she ever had to do, was ask…_

* * *

**A/N I know I just barely made this under the wire. Working on the next chapter of Taken now, and then I'll swing back around and finish Iambic Pentameter. I didn't ask anyone to beta for me on this story. If you see errors or etc, blame only me. If you took the time to read this story, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Happy Halloween! -Lemon**


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